Easter Sun
by starfishstar
Summary: Even when everything's falling apart, sometimes a chat with an old friend can bring a little sunlight back into the world. (Takes place at the very beginning of Easter break of Deathly Hallows.)


"Tonks!" Ginny said in surprise when she opened the door. Mum had said someone from the Order would be stopping by that afternoon, but somehow Tonks was the last person Ginny had expected to see.

"Wotcher," Tonks grinned. She looked really happy. She also looked _enormously_ pregnant, way more than the last time Ginny had seen her, over Christmas. Ginny still found it strange and wonderful every time she thought about it – even with everything else falling apart, Tonks and Professor Lupin were having a _baby._

"Come in!" Ginny said, ushering Tonks in and shutting the Burrow's back door behind her. "Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought it would be Kingsley or somebody. I guess I thought you'd be staying at home by now, uh, resting or something?"

Tonks laughed. "No way, you just _try_ to keep me away from the action."

Her good cheer was infectious. Ginny felt herself tentatively starting to smile, something it felt like she'd hardly done in months.

Tonks wriggled her way out of her cloak one arm at a time, then dropped it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "So, did you just get back from Hogwarts? When did Easter break start?"

"Yesterday," said Ginny, "Just got back last evening."

Before Tonks could say anything else, Mum appeared in the kitchen doorway, her face worried and drawn, as it always seemed to be these days. She had her wand in one hand and a steaming iron dangling distractedly from the other. "Tonks? Any news?"

She didn't say it outright, but when she asked like that, it always meant, _Any bad news?_

Tonks shook her head. "Nothing urgent. Just the usual Order briefing."

Mum gave a deep sigh. "Well. That's good."

Tonks eyed the iron, which was letting out a piercing whistle as it always did when it was displeased at being neglected. "And it's nothing that can't wait. You can finish whatever you're in the middle of, I don't mind hanging around for a bit."

"Oh, well, if you don't mind –" Mum said. "You girls could go sit out in the garden just for a bit while I finish this – it's a lovely day outside – if you really don't mind, Tonks. Ginny, there are ginger biscuits in the cupboard, and why don't you offer Tonks a drink? Tonks, love, I'll be back down in a trice."

"No problem, Molly, really," Tonks said. "Take your time."

Mum disappeared again, the iron in her hand now shrieking, and Ginny went and dug around in the cupboard for biscuits.

"Ace!" Tonks said, picking up her cloak again. "Biscuits from your Mum _and_ you and I get a chance to catch up. I'm going to volunteer for these dropping by and passing around information gigs more often, I think."

Ginny found herself smiling again, as she fetched some pumpkin juice from the cold cupboard. Tonks was always so eager and funny – the coolest member of the Order, no question. Plus, she listened to really good music, and did things with her hair that Ginny's mum would never have let her get away with in a million years, and as an Auror she knew an endless supply of cool spells and jinxes, and never seemed to get tired of Ginny and the others asking her to show them spells and things.

They went out to the back garden, Ginny balancing a plate of biscuits and a jug of pumpkin juice, Tonks carrying the glasses and holding the door open for Ginny. It really was a nice day, sunny and surprisingly warm for Easter. It felt weird to be out in the sunlight on a day this nice, when terrible things were happening all over the country, when Harry and Ron and Hermione were who knows where, and Luna was missing entirely, and even the life waiting for Ginny back at Hogwarts felt more like war than school.

Ginny shoved those thoughts away. She was so tired of being inside her own head, so sick to death of being morbid. It was a sunny day and her favourite member of the Order of the Phoenix was unexpectedly here, and there was nothing she could do to help any of her friends right now anyway, much as she detested that fact.

They sat down on the little bench that rested up against the outside wall of the house, in the sun.

"The garden's inside the house's spells and protections and stuff," Ginny said, as she set the pumpkin juice down on the little table in front of them, just in case Tonks thought she was being careless by going outside without her wand drawn and her guard up at all times.

Tonks just smiled and said, "I know."

Ginny poured them both a glass of pumpkin juice. Tonks took a sip, then leaned back against the house wall, face upturned to the sun, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Oh, this is so nice," she said. "We've got this tiny flat right now, we don't even have a balcony – I can only _dream_ of having a garden like this." Then she snorted and her eyes popped open again. "Wait, did I just say that? Am I nuts? I'd go crazy having to take care of a house and a garden and all of that. On second thought, I'll just keep visiting you and your folks whenever I get bizarre cravings for a garden."

She smiled and turned to Ginny.

"So, are things okay? You holding in there at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "I guess. It's not the same, though, without Luna. Have you heard anything about where she is? Has the Order heard anything?" she asked, even though she figured she knew the answer.

"No, sorry, I wish we had. But that's probably a good thing, you know? If they'd harmed her, they'd be bragging about it."

Ginny shivered, suddenly cold in the sunlight at the thought of anyone harming Luna. "Yeah, I hope that's true."

Tonks' sunny expression clouded for a moment, too, and Ginny remembered that Tonks' dad, as a Muggle-born wizard, had had to go into hiding, and no one had heard from him in weeks. Ginny remembered the panic she'd felt the night her own dad had been bitten by Voldemort's snake, during those first hours when they hadn't known yet whether he was going to survive. She wouldn't wish that feeling on anybody.

"And still no news from Harry, I guess?" Tonks asked.

Ginny shook her head. "And not from Ron either, which I figure is a good thing, because it means they're probably together. Mum's going up the walls, though."

_So am I, sometimes_, she didn't add.

Tonks fixed her with an intent look. Her eyes were violet today, which made her look otherworldly and wise. "Ginny, he's going to be fine. He's _Harry Bleeding Potter_. When has he ever not ended up fine in the end?"

Startled, Ginny laughed, and halfway choked on a sip of her drink. Tonks patted her on the back as she coughed.

"Right," Ginny said. "Because he's Harry Bleeding Potter. Ooh, though, don't say that in front of Mum."

"Oh believe me, I won't. Your mum terrifies even us supposed grown-ups."

"Uh, yeah, Tonks, maybe don't say that to her either."

Tonks smiled again. Ginny remembered how depressed she'd looked last year, after Sirius died and before she and Professor Lupin – Remus, now – got together, and Ginny was suddenly, fiercely glad for her.

The world might be falling apart, but Tonks and Remus had fallen in love and were having a baby, and there was something strangely heartening about that.

"I miss Harry all the time," Ginny blurted out. "I mean, I hate that I even think that, I shouldn't be thinking about him and me, because he's out defeating You-Know-Who and that's so much more important! But I want to be able to help him, and the only thing I can do is not do anything, just sit here while he goes and does what he has to do. But I miss him, and sometimes I wish he would just come back, and then I feel bad for wanting that. You know?" she finished lamely.

"Oh, Ginny," Tonks said. "Don't blame yourself for missing someone. And don't you dare start thinking you're just some damsel in distress, twiddling your thumbs and waiting for the hero to come home. I've heard what you lot have been getting up to at Hogwarts all year. You're most definitely not sitting and doing nothing. And as for Harry Bleeding Potter? He'll come back."

Ginny's throat felt tight, so she only nodded. Yes, of course Harry would come back, once he'd won this war. He _had_ to. Ginny couldn't imagine a world without Harry in it.

"Not to be _too_ nosy or anything," Tonks said, "but he had some kind of really noble justification for why you and he couldn't be together, right? How it would only put you in danger, and he couldn't do that to you?"

"Uh, yeah," Ginny said. "Wait, how did you know that?"

Tonks chuckled drily. "I knew it! I've always said those two have far too much in common. Both too noble for their own good, so utterly aggravating, the lovable berks." She smiled fondly. "Look, Ginny, I'd be the very last person to tell you to just sit around and wait for a happy ending to happen to you. But sometimes, they really _do_ happen. Sometimes, yes, he leaves, and it's absolutely rotten, but then he does come back and eventually things are okay – in fact, eventually they're great, they're even better than they were before." She gave a self-deprecating sigh. "And now I'm _really_ being obvious, and you can completely tell I'm not talking about Harry anymore, I'm talking about Remus. My noble, aggravating, absolutely lovable Remus."

Ginny couldn't help it – she actually giggled. No matter how hard she tried, she still thought of Professor Lupin as just that, a professor, serious and kind and very proper. So to hear Tonks going on about him being cute and lovable was like… was like walking in on two professors snogging, or something. Except not quite as weird, since one of them was Tonks, at least.

Tonks glanced over, not knowing exactly why Ginny was laughing, but clearly pleased with herself for being the cause of it.

"There we go," she said. "That's the Ginny I remember from Grimmauld Place, always running pranks and secret schemes."

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I don't know if I'm the Ginny you remember."

"Oh, don't worry, I don't mean it like that. None of us is who we were two years ago. I know I'm sure not." She smiled again, like it was a happy reflex she was trying to tamp down, but couldn't, quite. "In good and bad ways both, I mean. Mostly good. Definitely older and maybe a little bit wiser, too."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "Same."

They each took a biscuit from the plate and chewed in thoughtful silence.

"I'm kind of afraid my parents aren't going to let me go back to Hogwarts," Ginny said, once she'd chewed and swallowed. "At the end of Easter break, I mean. Dad's been saying for ages that we might have to go into hiding, and I think all it would take would be one little thing for them to decide it's time. Mum's Aunt Muriel has said we can stay with her." Ginny sighed. "I don't want to go stay with Aunt Muriel. I don't want to sit at home with my mum and do nothing! I want to be _doing_ something. Even if it's something small."

Ginny realised she'd balled her hands into fists, and made herself drop them. She reached for her glass again and took a sip, for something to do with her hands.

"I feel you on that," Tonks said. "Believe me. I know this probably doesn't help, but even as a full member of the Order, I feel the same way sometimes. Sometimes you want so badly to be doing something to help, but there really isn't anything you can do but keep looking out for the people around you and keep believing in Harry."

"I worry what will happen to Neville if I don't go back to school," Ginny said. "He and Luna and I were kind of keeping up the DA together, and then it was just him and me, and now if Mum and Dad don't let me go back… I worry about everybody, really, all of them, all the students. The Carrows are horrible, Tonks, you have no idea."

"I think I can imagine," Tonks said, her tone unusually dark. "I've met a few Death Eaters in my day."

Ginny gazed out across the garden, at the incomprehensibly blue sky.

"It's so stupid," she said. "Half of me desperately wants to go back to Hogwarts, keep fighting there. The other half has this stupid idea that Harry's going to turn up here and tell me he needs me to go with them after all, with him and Ron and Hermione. Before you came, I was sitting out here polishing my broom, trimming the tail twigs and everything, because I should be ready to go at any moment, just in case, right? How stupid is that?"

Tonks reached over and squeezed Ginny's hand. "It's not stupid. It's really, really not."

"I just wish there were something more I could do," Ginny said. "I wish I were older." _Like you_, she didn't add. _Or Ron, even – _Ron_ gets to go with Harry, how unfair is that?_

Tonks sighed softly. "Chin up, kid. Things won't stay this way forever."

"Sometimes it's hard to imagine that," Ginny said, just as softly. "Sometimes it seems like we're in this dark tunnel, and we've been in it for as long as I can remember, and I can't even imagine what things were like before."

"We're going to win this war," Tonks said, her voice growing steelier. "We're going to get rid of Voldemort, and get the Death Eaters out of the Ministry, and people are not going to have to hide forever. It's going to be safe again. I've been promising this kiddo that every single day." She rested a hand on her ball-shaped belly. Then she looked over at Ginny again and said, "I sure wish I could tell you something that would make it all okay right now, though."

"That's okay," Ginny said. "It was never going to be that easy, I know that. I've known that since my first year at Hogwarts." Ginny knew better than most people what Voldemort could do – and that had only been a memory, a copy of him from when he'd been a kid.

Tonks frowned, then her face brightened again. "Hey, how about this – I bet you're dying to get away from the house for a bit, but your parents don't want you going out unsupervised. Right?"

Ginny nodded.

"Well, you said you had your broom here. Why don't we go out and fly for a bit? Your mum and dad can't possibly object if you're with an Auror."

Ginny looked at Tonks in confusion. "But, wait, can you fly right now?"

Tonks glanced down at her round belly, like she'd momentarily forgotten it was there. "Oh, right. I guess that would be kind of difficult." She gave another snort of laughter. "All right, new plan. I'll go in and have my quick meeting with Molly, then we'll still go out, but you'll fly and I'll toss a Quaffle for you to chase. Deal?"

"Deal," Ginny said, feeling her mood lift despite herself. She hadn't gotten a chance to properly fly in ages.

Tonks grinned and carefully levered herself up from the bench. "All right, kid, go get your broom and a ball, and I'll be back out in a bit."

Together, they gathered up the plates and glasses and started back around the house.

"Tonks?" Ginny said.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. You know, for coming over to chat and stuff. It's really nice. And I'm really excited for you having a baby!" she finished in a rush.

Tonks looked surprised, then pleased. "Thanks, Ginny."

Ginny held the back door open, and Tonks ducked inside.

"Back here in fifteen minutes or so?" Tonks asked.

"Yeah, sounds great."

Tonks disappeared into the house to find Mum, and Ginny took her time putting everything away in the kitchen.

Every day, Ginny lived with the feeling that the world around her could fall apart at any moment, that the last thin threads halfway holding things together would snap. And even if the only respite the world could send her was an hour or so of tossing a Quaffle around with a friend, she'd take it and gladly. Maybe you just had to grab those moments when they came.

Putting away the biscuits and shutting the cupboard with a decisive snap, Ginny left the kitchen and headed out to the broomshed, smiling.


End file.
